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Hippy Vans and Wooly Worms

A week ago, I was still running the air conditioning in the bedroom at night. Today, multi-colored leaves are scattered on the ground, the wind is whooshing and whistling and there's white stuff in the forecast for this weekend.

The snaggle toothed old fellers who spend their days gathered along the dead pecker wall down in the middle of town, in their baggy navy blue Dickies and tattered John Deere caps, all agree that we're in for a rough winter here in the holler. Even the wooly worms, which are solid black and twice their normal size, seem to agree.

Bring it. I'm due for a little excitment in my life. (Two months from now when I'm whining because I've got snow up to my hoo-ha, I'll deny that last statement.)

The Amazon came home the other day and announced she'd sold the Hippy Van. It's been sitting in the yard for a few years now, with flat tires, while providing shelter for Pocco (The Giant Bunny of the Appocolypse) and his or her offspring. The van had a long history with us, I bought it used when T.A. was still in high school, Ma drove it to work at her last job and it made countless trips back and forth to G'boro, moving T.A. in and out of her college dorms. I don't miss making that four hour drive, steering with my right hand and holding the bungie corded door in place with my left while hauling ass out I-40. I will miss terrorizing tourist bikers in the middle of town, Jolene doesn't look nearly as creepy as that lopsided van did, black smoke pouring out of the back as it barrelled towards you.

It was a good one, with over 200K miles. T.A. and I had convinced Ma that it wouldn't run at all, afraid she'd make good on her occasional threats to hop in it and take off. I was thankful she was asleep when they came to get it and after giving it a jump, drove it off without a care in the world.

Now Ma's trying to see what else she can sell. She may end up being the next Queen of eBay.

I'm so glad it's Friday ya'll. Sales are still climbing here at the Asylum, Bossman is still being a big horse's patootey and I'm still looking for another job. I'm not sure what the weekend holds, T.A. wants to take the truck to some gathering of geeks and future serial killers social thing at the comic book store in Big City tonight and to the movies with The Gritlett tomorrow. She's agreed to pick up groceries while she's out, so I don't have to go (ya!) leaving me free to do laundry, vacuum, do some yard work leisurely enjoy my weekend alone with Ma.

Either way, it's two days away from the Cubicle Asylum and Mr. Happy Feckin' Sunshine down the hall.